


Serve, Set, Match

by foreverandalwaysvictorious



Category: Dynasty (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, F/F, Fallon is an uncoordinated dork, Fallon is inexperienced in everything, Kirby is a lesbian, Kirby is a volleyball player, Slow Burn, and everyone lives happily ever after, liam and kirby friendship because I want it, maybe? - Freeform, somehow they fall for each other, the firby sports au no one asked for but my brain produced
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:34:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22765567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foreverandalwaysvictorious/pseuds/foreverandalwaysvictorious
Summary: Fallon is at risk of not graduating on time if she does not complete the physical education requirement. Kirby, star of the university's Varsity volleyball team, is earning some extra money by teaching classes at the school gym. Will Fallon pass the class or will a certain redhead become an unexpected distraction? ON HIATUS
Relationships: Fallon Carrington & Monica Colby, Kirby Anders & Fallon Carrington, Kirby Anders & Liam Ridley, Kirby Anders/Fallon Carrington
Comments: 20
Kudos: 30





	1. A Simple Mistake

**Author's Note:**

> Niamh, as always, thank you for journeying into Dynasty and Firby with me. And reading all my sporadic thoughts on the matter.

“What do you mean I can’t graduate?” Fallon sat on the bed in her dorm room, running her fingers through her hair as she tried to comprehend the news she had just received. After applying to walk with her graduating class, an email from the university a week later spelled doom for all her plans. The bright red words NOT ELIGIBLE stood out among the rest of the text. It would have helped if the long message had explained why her application had not gone through instead of being filled with information about other graduation activities. Now, she was spending her Monday morning on the phone with a guidance counselor trying to resolve the problem.

“Miss Carrington, even though you have completed all your required coursework for the major, you did not complete the requirements for the college,” the counselor told her. “According to our records, it looks like the only credits you are missing are for a physical education class. Until you do that, you will not be eligible for graduation.”

She sighed deeply. Of course, it was something as stupid as a physical education requirement that would keep her from graduating on time. She was usually so meticulous about keeping track of her credits that she was only slightly surprised that this one slipped her mind. Fallon wasn’t normally keen to participate in any sort of physical activity, especially in a group setting. Her walks from her dorm to class and dorm to the dining hall were often the only exercise she would get most weeks as her coursework would overtake her. She would sometimes end up at the school gym, but only in the deepest hours of the night if she couldn’t sleep or needed to study away from distractions. 

This was supposed to be the final stretch of her senior. She had plans to finally move out on her own in the city, where she had secured an internship as an entry level engineer at a private firm. It would disappoint her parents if she had to break the news that she would not be graduating due to her own negligence.

She listened intently as the woman spoke again. “It can be completed in two quarters if you are still planning on graduating this year.”

Fallon felt a sense of relief wash over her. The problem could be fixed! She wouldn’t be relegated to being the disappointment of the family she already felt she was at most times. “Really? Okay, what do I need to do?”

“I would check on the availability of the class you want to take. If there are any spots left, you will have to ask the professor for a late enrollment code and register from there.”

“Okay, do you mind staying on the phone while I do that? I have my laptop right here.” The counselor agreed. Fallon quickly logged into the school portal and entered the details to filter her choices down to classes that qualified. Dance was the first thing to show up on the list and she immediately changed the filters to remove those options. Anything that required coordination was out of the question for her, even if she was desperate for any class. She did the same thing as she saw other organized team sports. Fallon knew she shouldn’t be so picky, but she couldn’t help it. Finally, she was left with basic aerobics and training classes. Everything was full besides Sports Conditioning. She couldn’t risk sitting on a waitlist for a class that may not have any spots open. She also knew she wouldn’t be allowed to enroll in any conditioning courses as those were reserved for varsity athletes.

She adjusted the filters again to add the classes that she had previously removed from her options. Her heart sank when she saw all the classes were full, with a waitlist of no less than 5 students each. She tried not to let a whine of disappointment escape her lips, knowing the guidance counselor was still on the end of the line. “So…what do I do if I had no luck enrolling? she asked through the phone. “I know students probably say this all the time, but I really can’t go another quarter in the summer. I need to graduate this year.” She brought a hand to her mouth, chewing on her thumbnail in worry. It was a horrible habit that she continually said she would stop but had not been successful at.

“Hmm, let me look and see if there’s anything else you can do that would count for credits.”

Fallon waited impatiently as she listened to the sounds of flipping papers and keyboard strokes. Her thoughts at the potential of not graduating on time were starting to send her into an anxious spiral. If she didn’t finish school by the summer, she would no longer be qualified for her internship. She would have to move back home before wasting an entire quarter in the fall on one class. Her parents would not be happy about having to spend the extra money for her tuition, as it would break the original agreement they made when she was first accepted to school in San Diego. They would help her for no more than four years at the university, which ultimately meant she had that amount of time to finish her degree. She could not afford to pay for it on her own.

Finally, a voice on the end of the line broke her from her thoughts. “Miss Carrington are you still there?”

Fallon affirmed that she was, bringing herself out of her own head, before the other woman continued. “I have some good news for you. If you enroll in a recreational or club sport, you can use that time to count towards your P.E. requirement. You will have to check with someone at the recreation center for a list of available classes.”

Her anxiety lessened at the mention of a new solution. Hopefully this time it would work out in her favor. She thanked the counselor for her help and hung up the phone as she turned her attention back to her laptop and navigated to the page for the university rec center. Fallon tried not to be picky as she perused the class offerings, but just the thought of some of these activities was causing her pain. If she just dropped out of college completely, this wouldn’t be an issue anymore.

After fighting an internal battle of suffering through a sport class or running away to another country (yes she knew she was being dramatic), she still wasn’t any closer to making a decision. In the midst of her struggle, she heard the front door of their on-campus apartment clicking shut, signaling her roommate’s return from class.

“Monica!” Fallon called out and the other woman came to her doorway. The look on her friend’s face let her know that she needed to tone down her whininess. She didn’t mean to pout. It was just what happened to her face when she was upset.

“What’s wrong, Fallon?” Monica asked, already regretting trying to help the brunette. She loved Fallon to pieces but sometimes the entitled rich girl attitude that popped out was more than she could handle.

“So I might have overlooked a graduation requirement and if I don’t fix it, I won’t walk with everyone in the summer,” she admitted. “I have to take something to fulfill the physical education requirements.”

“Everyone I know did that their freshman year. Why did you wait so long?” Monica questioned.

“Well I was focused on my major and being done with everything in four years. Plus, you know exercising is not my idea of a good time. I guess I thought there was always “later” to squeeze it in somewhere.” She wrung her hands in embarrassment. For being exceptionally intelligent, this was a stupid mistake.

Monica sighed at her. “Well “later” is now, so what are you going to do?”

“That’s my problem I need help with,” Fallon said. “All the classes I can take for units are full, so I have to take a recreational class instead, but I can’t choose. Who would do any of this for fun? Like “aerial silks”? This looks like it requires more muscle than I have in my entire body.”

“Give me your laptop,” Monica gestured to the device.

Fallon reluctantly handed it over, before nervously confronting her friend. “Wait, what are you doing?”

A few clicks later and Monica handed it back to her. “I know you won’t make a decision when you don’t want to do something, so I made one for you. Have fun!”

The other woman left the room, leaving Fallon to stare blankly at the screen in front of her. She scoured the text to find out what Monica had signed her up for as her eyes landed on the word volleyball. Fallon might have had the height, but she definitely did not have the coordination required for such an intense sport. She would be angry at her friend for this later, but at least she had a class and could focus on the rest of the school year that was ahead of her.


	2. Same As It Ever Was

The sound of sneakers squeaking along polished wood floors filled the gymnasium. A group of girls were in the middle of an intense rally, focused on keeping a ball in the air, moving quickly between team members back and forth over the net. The whistle blew once the ball hit the ground on the opposite side of the net. Sounds of celebration and lament mixed into one as they echoed against the building’s walls. The girl who had scored the winning shot, a tall redhead, was met with high fives and hugs from her teammates.

“Good hustle, Kirby!” her coach called from the sidelines. “Already a great start for the post-season.”

“Well, I don’t want to let UCLA catch us off guard,” she replied. “Just because we won the championship last year doesn’t mean it will be easy this year.”

Looking at her watch to check the time, their coach spoke again. “Alright, I think that’s it for today ladies. See you next week!”

The girls went to gather their things from the sideline benches, exhausted from their first friendly scrimmage after winter break. It was no longer the NCAA competitive season for the volleyball team, but most players practiced year-round to stay in shape and prepare for other upcoming competitions.

“Not even one practice into this quarter and you’re already playing like the championship game is tomorrow,” Kirby’s teammate Katie told her as she playful bumped Kirby with her elbow. “Let up a little, otherwise you’re going to burn us all out from chasing your spikes.”

“Sorry,” Kirby said as she readjusted her ponytail. “I was just excited to get back on the court. It’s been a whole month since I’ve played.” She had spent her entire holiday break relaxing, something that was usually rare for her. The sport had consumed her life for as long as she could remember. Practices and camps filled up most of her free time. It had all paid off of course, now that she was playing regularly at the competitive level.

They sat down on the bench as they packed up their bags. “Hope you can keep that energy up the entire semester because I can’t. My schedule looks brutal already.”

Kirby was used to having a busy schedule by this point, the second semester of her junior year. She had been playing varsity volleyball since her sophomore year of high school. Juggling classes and sports was second nature to her while some of the underclassmen were struggling to keep up.

Once they were ready, the girls began the long walk back to their dorms. “At least the first week back is always easy,” Katie said. “Want to hit up the beach this weekend? I was in dreary Washington all break and could use the sun.”

A day at the beach would be a good way to start off the quarter, Kirby thought. “Maybe. I’ll know better once I get through this week. My Saturday mornings are going to be booked since I’m teaching recreation classes again.”

Katie looked at her in surprise. “Working already? You need to have some fun!”

“What I _need_ to do is keep up my grades, to keep my scholarship so I can keep playing volleyball,” Kirby stated. “I also need money to have fun, which means working when I can.”

“You’re going to waste the most freedom you’ll have in your entire life on being responsible? What a waste!” the other girl sarcastically replied. 

Kirby giggled at her friend. It wasn’t that she didn’t like going out. It was common for all sports players to congregate in the same social circles so she would often be invited to events around campus. It was just that going out was draining. She felt overwhelmed by the large amounts of people and loud music that came with the party scene. She would rather have a small get together with close friends than spend all night binge drinking, just to wake up the next day and remember nothing. Apparently, most of the college population did not feel the same way. Her anxieties, while extremely detrimental to her social life, kept her focused on what she knew was important. Right now, that was volleyball and school. There was really no time for anything else.

* * *

The two parted ways when they reached the pathway that led to Katie’s dorm. When she got back to her own dorm, Kirby gathered her things to take a shower to wash off the sweat from practice. Her roommate Natalia had left her a note to let her know that she was out and wouldn’t be back until later that night. She normally didn’t mind having the room to herself, but on her first week back, she wished she had someone to keep her company. She made her way to the shower, letting the water warm up before stripping off her workout wear and stepping in. The heat instantly relaxed her as she let the water run over her tired muscles. 

Even though she was excited to be back at school, there was still a nagging tug of sadness at her heart. When she was initially picking out colleges to apply to, it had been difficult for her to decide that she wanted to study in America, thousands of miles away from her small hometown in Australia. There were plenty of opportunities back home, just as good as those that were afforded to her in a new country, but there was some sense of pride in being recruited by a university who knew almost nothing about her. Many of the Australian universities’ sports programs viewed her as a top asset and tried their best to woo her with promises of sports stardom. She felt like she could stand out anywhere among a sea of athletes, especially as an international student. The decision was made easier when she found out she had also received a full-ride scholarship that she couldn’t pass up.

It wasn’t long before her skin was starting to prune in the steam filled cubicle. She turned off the water and wrapped herself up in her towel before making her way back to her room. She threw on some comfortable clothes, a loose pair of joggers and a t-shirt, knowing she would spend the rest of the evening relaxing and possibly starting some homework before going to bed.

She looked at the pictures she had posted on her dorm room wall as she brushed through her damp hair. Kirby missed her family, her cat, and all her friends back home. The one childhood treasure she refused to part from when she left home was a worn-out stuffed animal. It was a gift from a relative when she was a young girl; she couldn’t remember who anymore. The stuffed wombat she had insisted on naming Montgomery was with her when she took the long flight from Australia to California. It was obviously loved to the point where parts of his body were worn bare, missing the soft fur that once used to cover him. One of his eyes had been replaced and the stitching had been redone on his feet multiple times throughout the years. She grabbed the creature and hugged him to her chest, hoping to squish the loneliness she felt in the pit of her chest.

At least her location made her feel a little less homesick, she thought as she moved to look out the window to see the sun beginning to set across the ocean. That was her main reason for coming to San Diego. She still got the sunshine and heat she was used to at home with the new experience of being in another country. She was also a relatively short distance away from the beach, making it a priority to spend any free time she had at the water’s edge. It often helped her clear her mind and slow down when she was feeling overwhelmed by all her activities. That sounded nice right about now. She looked at her phone to see what time it was. _4:00_. She had at least an hour until sunset and the beach was only a 10-minute walk from her room. Her schoolwork could wait for one night. She set Montgomery down on her bed, patting his head before searching for a hair tie to wrap her hair into a loose bun. After grabbing her sunglasses, keys, and phone, Kirby headed out the door to enjoy a quiet walk on the beach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the delay in posting, but now we have some backstory for our main girls! Life got busy and I'm sure most of us are wrapped up in this pandemic situation now. I hope everyone is doing well and staying safe! I'll have plenty of time to write if we end up going on lock down.


	3. Confronting Reality

Week one of the quarter was coming to a close and Fallon already found herself holed up in the library with a calculus book and her laptop. As much as she loved math, the biweekly homework assigned by her professor was tedious. The complex equations were no issue, but the volume she had to solve seemed to compound with the work from her other classes. She felt a tap on her shoulder while she was completely engrossed in the sounds of her study playlist and the standard derivative in her textbook. A body slid into the seat across from her prompting her to pause her music and remove her earbuds. She looked up to see Monica, who had set her large portfolio carrying case and a tray of Starbucks on the table in front of her.

“Not surprised I found you here. Already drowning in work?” Monica asked. 

“Always," Fallon sighed as she set down her pencil. "I think senioritis is starting to kick in. I’m starting to zone out on the simplest equations. I just want to be done and doing actual work. That is much more exciting than pretending to build a fake bridge or whatever.”

“I brought you a motivational drink. Maybe that will help.” She pulled the large plastic cup from the cardboard carrier and passed it to Fallon.

“Thanks,” she told Monica before taking a sip. She was grateful for the treat; the sugar and frost of the beverage quickly served its purpose as she felt herself starting to perk up. The familiar taste of her usual iced mocha brought back memories of all the times they had been at this exact table in the library over the last four years. From late night cram sessions to quick catch up chats between classes, it had become a routine for the two to meet up when they could, even though they lived together. She wasn’t one to get sentimental, but she was realizing just how much she would miss these impromptu coffee dates with her best friend when they finally parted ways at graduation.

“Well I need to head out," Monica said as she gathered her things. Advanced Art Appreciation awaits me. I’m going to need some retail therapy after class. Wanna come with me?”

Fallon did need some suitable workout wear for her volleyball class that weekend. She was always one who wanted to dress to impress, and this occasion was no exception.

“Sure. Text me when you’re done with class?”

Monica agreed as she gathered her things and got up to leave. Fallon eagerly took another sip of coffee before diving back into her work.

* * *

Two hours later, Fallon and Monica were wandering around the high-end fashion mall. It was the closest mall to the university, which was located in a relatively wealthy area. Most college students would not have been able to afford the stores that lined the walkways, and the two girls were no exception. Retail therapy with Monica always turned more into a browsing trip than anything else, but today Fallon was on a mission. She didn’t think it would be this difficult to make a choice on an outfit for a course she wasn’t even excited about, but here she was two hours later, still digging through the pile of clothes she had brought into the fitting room.

“I can’t decide between the red and blue or the purple and blue.” She held up a pair of leggings and matching sport bra up to herself in the mirror, comparing that option to the current one she was wearing.

“Planning on meeting someone?” Monica’s muffled voice carried through the door. “I haven’t seen you put this much thought into an outfit in a while.”

“Definitely not,” Fallon said with a look of disgust on her face. “I have no time for dating. You know this is my way of embodying the phrase “Dress for Success”. If I look my best, I’ll feel good, and then maybe learning a sport I know nothing about will be less disastrous than I’m expecting.”

“You could always get both and put it on your dad’s credit card. They technically are a ‘school expense’” Monica suggested.

This was part of an ongoing internal debate Fallon had with herself many times over the course of her college career. Her parents had given her an open line to their bank account. She often insisted on paying for things on her own out of both stubbornness and a need to break off from the family name. There was already enough speculation at school about her reasons for attending without fueling the fire. She sighed, considering her options in the mirror once again, before deciding and exiting the fitting room.

“And how will you be paying?” the cashier asked after all the items were rung up.

She reluctantly pulled the gold card from her wallet and slid it across the counter. There was nothing wrong with treating herself occasionally and it wasn’t like this was a frivolous purchase. She would just spend the rest of the day anxiously hoping she wouldn’t receive a friendly check in call from either of the elder Carrington’s that night. 

* * *

Kirby would rather be anywhere else than the dingy frat house she found herself in on that Thursday night. Her teammates had convinced her to come to a welcome back party where the music was too loud, the rooms were clouded with thick smoke and the alcohol flowing through the attendee’s veins made them more reckless than usual. She now found herself settled against a wall in the kitchen, a red Solo cup in her hand filled with some sort of concoction. She had taken a few sips to appease her friends but did not want to inebriate herself further. Kirby had never been fond of drinking, always having a fear of losing control like many people she had seen before. As she scrolled through her Instagram for what was probably the third time, she felt a presence next to her, a shadow slowly blocking the little amount of light available to her in the small room.

“Hey pretty thing, don’t think I’ve seen you around before.” She looked up to see a tall, lanky brunette standing next to her. The scenario was already playing out in her head before he said another word. Being that she had inadvertently isolated herself, she didn’t have a good escape plan to avoid talking to him.

“I’m Brett. Need a refill on your drink?” he asked, attempting to ease himself into conversation.

“No, I’m good. Thanks.” She took a sip from her still full cup to punctuate her response, slightly grimacing at the taste of the hard liquor against her tongue.

“Are you on a sports team? Seems like most people here are.”

“Volleyball,” she curtly replied, pretending once again to be distracted by something on her phone.

She politely listened to him talk, answering his continuing questions, mostly pertaining to school, while hoping he would take the hint that she wasn’t interested in his attempts at flirting. It wasn’t even him in particular that she didn’t want to deal with but explaining that point wasn’t worth the time or effort. Most guys took it as a challenge to change her mind as she had found out on previous occasions.

“Hey babe, I was wondering where you got off to.” A familiar voice broke through the thumping bass in the other room. She turned in the direction of the words, seeing the blonde man making his way towards her. He came to stand by her side and his arm wrapped protectively around her waist, an act they had put on many times before. “Who’s your friend here?”

“Brett. He plays basketball for the university.”

“Hi Brett. Liam.” He reached his hand out to the man who was reluctant to return the handshake as he was starting to pick up on the body language of the “couple” in front of him. Liam attempted to make light conversation, but now that Kirby was no longer the center of attention, Brett seemed uninterested.

“Well, it was nice talking to you. I better get back to the party.” He awkwardly rubbed at the back of his head before making a steady exit to the main room.

“Ugh why do some men not take a hint?” Kirby complained once the subject of the conversation was out of earshot. “Thanks for swooping in and saving me by the way. What are you doing here? This kind of party isn’t really your style.”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he said with a smile.

“The girls dragged me out again even though I had plenty of things to get done tonight.”

“Like what?” He questioned. “Getting distracted by binge watching something on Netflix?”

“Hey, The Great British Bakeoff is very educational. I learned how to make those brownies you love so much from watching it, thank you very much.” She poked at his chest and he let out a deep chuckle.

Their friendship seemed unlikely to many from the outside. He had been one of the many guys who tried to flirt with her as a freshman but changed his tune when he was rejected instead of trying to convince her that he was worthy of her attention. From there, they had hit it off as friends and had grown close over the past two years. They often were each other’s wingmen when presented with various social events, Liam helping Kirby escape unwanted attention from men, and Kirby putting in a good word for Liam by charming the girls.

“So how’s the quarter treating you so far?” he asked as he leaned against a nearby wall.

“Not too bad. We’ll see how I feel once the week is over. You?”

“I have to start thinking about my senior project. No rest these days, but I guess it just comes with the territory of the major.”

“You and that big brain of yours must be tired then, Mr. Engineer.” She brought her hand up to playfully ruffle his hair.

“Well, some of us can’t juggle our major and extracurriculars like a certain Australian genius can.”

“Being busy and having some semblance of time management doesn’t make me a genius,“ she laughed as she looked at her phone again. Noting the time, she looked back to Liam. “Think we can sneak out of here? I still have a class tomorrow morning and I’m tired.”

He nodded. “Let’s find your friends first and let them know, that way they don’t think you were snatched up by a stranger.”

Liam helped her push through the sea of people until she located the other girls in the center of the packed main room. She had to lean in close enough to make sure they heard her plans for departure before gesturing to Liam standing near the doorway. They said their goodbyes for the night before she made her way through the crowd again to reach the front door. Once outside, she dumped the remainder of her drink in the grass before tossing her cup in a conveniently located trash can at the curb.

The walk back to her dorm was relatively silent. The cool night air on her cheeks was a welcome feeling that combated the slight tipsiness and lingering heat she felt from the stuffy house. As they reached her building, Liam tentatively broke the silence with a question.

“How are you doing?” His voice rang clear in the stillness of the night.

She stopped in her tracks near the base of the staircase, cocking her head in confusion at his question. “Didn’t you just ask me this earlier?”

“You know what I mean.” He pushed again. “How are you adjusting to being back?”

Kirby sighed. Late night talks with Liam early on in their friendship had exposed her feelings of homesickness and how easy it was for her to get caught up in a spiral because of it. “It doesn’t really get easier, but I think I’m getting used to it. I still miss home even though I spend more time here during the year.”

“Coming here was the first step to breaking out of your comfort zone,” he reminded her. “I think you’ve done well so far considering the odds.”

She crossed her arms over her chest as if it would protect her from feeling vulnerable. “Honestly, as great as it would be, I can’t imagine living here forever. My brain won’t let me manifest it. What if everything I’ve dreamed about moving here is just some unattainable fantasy?”

“The hardest part was getting accepted here, right? You still have a whole year to work out a plan,” Liam reassured her. “Maybe you’ll find a reason that will convince you to stay for the long term.”

After they bid each other goodnight, she made her way to her room to get ready for bed. Her talk with Liam made her realize she couldn’t think of any circumstances that would make her stay in America postgraduate, sans a dream job offer. Sure, she was successful and popular, but even that wasn’t enough to quell the voice in her head that continually told her that her luck would run out. The overwhelming experience of her newfound freedom each time she came back to school was enough to make her want to crawl back to the familiar as soon as it was all over. The path after college was filled with a variety of unknowns that she didn’t feel ready to face. As she curled into the comfort of her bed, she let herself drift off to sleep that night hoping for a future where everything would work out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally posting after too long of a break in between chapters. If I look at it anymore, I will probably hate it. Hopefully you, the reader, did not.


	4. The First Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's only been *looks at calendar* 3 months since the last update? Let's not talk about that. Thank you Niamh for the beta. <3

It should have been easy for Fallon to fall asleep that Friday night, but knowing the event to come the next day was making her restless. She usually wasn’t one who struggled with keeping a schedule, electing to be in bed by 10 PM even on the weekends. The early mornings filled with classes turned into late evenings with homework and studying. It would all catch up with her eventually, but all she could do was stare at the ceiling as she willed her mind to slow down enough to get a few hours of sleep.

She had tossed and turned, feeling herself start to doze off on more than one occasion, only to have some unwanted thought enter her head and rouse her again. Relenting to the fact that rest would not be coming, she checked the time on her phone, noting the ungodly hour of 3 AM. She brought her hands to her face, gently rubbing the lingering tiredness from her eyes, before rolling out of bed, phone in hand, and making her way to the small dorm kitchen.

A cup of tea would need to substitute her normal morning coffee. She needed to calm her nerves, not agitate them more with a kick of caffeine. She grabbed the electric kettle from its place on the counter, filling it up with water, before flipping the switch to bring it to a boil. Fallon didn’t want to admit that she was anxious about the class that was set to take place in a matter of hours. She was cool and confident when she was in her element, but new situations like this caused her stomach to twist in knots. Everyone was prone to the occasional pre-performance jitters; she had tried to assure herself. This was just another activity for her to dive headfirst into and tackle with an air of confidence once she’d found her footing.

Hearing the water inside start to bubble, she stopped the kettle just before it began to whistle so she didn’t wake up Monica. After grabbing a mug and filling it, she steeped a tea bag thoughtfully, making a mental list of everything else she needed to accomplish this weekend. The general tasks of cleaning and laundry would be easy to take care of on Sunday, as well as any additional studying and homework she had to finish for the upcoming week. She could focus all her energy today solely on surviving her first structured workout in four years.

She grabbed the mug, enjoying the warmth that filled her hands, and walked into the main sitting area to admire the view their 15th story room provided. As seniors, they had received their first pick of accommodations, settling on an apartment-like dorm which had a balcony and overlooked the ocean from a distance. It was everything she had dreamed of when moving to the Southern California city. Currently, the hazy purple sky was slowly warming up into tones of orange and yellow as the sun rose. She could barely make out the movement of waves on the horizon. She took a long sip from her mug, as she decided to sit down in a nearby armchair feeling tired again from the early morning hour. Curling her legs underneath her, she unlocked her phone to scroll through social media, hoping to distract her racing mind.

She tapped on Instagram and upon loading, there were a few pictures of her brothers on their latest excursion in Peru. The two could be seen hiking through Machu Picchu, eating the local food, and her personal favorite: taking selfies with alpacas. Adam and Steven were always traveling, taking part in different philanthropy projects around the globe. She had seen them briefly over break, where they had shared their plans to take her on a post-graduation trip anywhere in the world. She was still undecided to her destination but had managed to narrow it down to a list of ten.

She continued scrolling through various posts from friends, family, and celebrities, throwing the occasional like here and there until she came upon one that showcased her parents at some gala they had attended. She was surprised she hadn’t heard from them yet but relieved all the same. They would probably ask her the same questions, even though they already knew the answer from spending four weeks with her during the holidays. Yes, classes were going well. No, she didn’t have a boyfriend. Yes, she would call them if she needed _anything_ , even if she was in trouble.

She felt herself start to doze off, eyes drifting shut as she tried to read an article about some celebrity feud that was trending on Twitter. The tea was failing to do its job to make her alert. Even though it wasn’t the most comfortable spot, she was willing to let herself get a few minutes of rest from her spot in the living area. She set the almost empty mug on a nearby end table and searched for her phone which was now almost falling into the crevice between the cushion and the arm, making sure to set an alarm so she didn’t oversleep for her first day of the dreaded sports class. She could handle being sleep deprived but drew the line at being late as well.

* * *

_“Use the sleeves of my sweater_

_Let's have an adventure_

_Head in the clouds but my gravity's centered_

_Touch my neck and I'll touch yours_

_You in those little high waisted shorts”_

Kirby groaned and burrowed deeper into her covers, squeezing her eyes shut, before feeling around for her phone to turn the alarm off. Waking up early on the weekend was not her favorite thing, but she had grown used to it, knowing in the end that it helped pay for any extracurricular activities.

She pushed herself to sit upright, reaching up to the ceiling in an extended stretch which caused her back to create a cacophony of pops and cracks. She noticed the bed next to her was empty as she twisted to release more tension in her muscles, meaning Natalia had spent yet another Friday night partying, electing to sleep somewhere else. As much fun as she could be, sometimes her goals for college were...different from Kirby’s. She was an international student as well, but instead of focusing exclusively on her studies, she had created a sort of college bucket list. Natalia had excitedly shared it with Kirby on one of their first nights out as freshmen, pulling her along to take part in a variety of dangerous and possibly illegal excursions. So far nothing had gotten the other girl in too much trouble, but Kirby wasn’t going to take any chances with her scholarship on the line.

She reluctantly pulled herself out of bed, stripping off her pajamas to change into her workout clothes she had the foresight to lay out the night before. After grabbing her brush and face cleanser, she made her way to the bathroom to freshen up. The one upside to being up early was beating the rush of other students, fighting for sinks and showers in the small communal bathroom.

Once she was back in her room, she grabbed a protein bar from her snack stockpile, throwing it in her bag for later as she headed out the door to walk to the gym. The cool coastal air hit her face as she exited the building, making her more alert than she had felt a few minutes prior. The surrounding campus was quiet, the silence broken by the occasional caw of gulls flying overhead.

She always liked to arrive at least two hours early to make sure she had the proper equipment on hand. Facilities staff were usually responsible for the heavy hardware, such as setting up the net, but there had been occasions where nothing was prepared for class. It also gave her time to get some homework or a personal practice session in before the other students showed up. After gathering the mesh bag full of supplies from the equipment closet, she pulled a notebook and a pen from her bag. She needed to work on cleaning up her Virology lecture notes from the day before. Luckily, most professors in her department recorded their classes. She promptly got to work, listening to Dr. Schaffer rehash the details of the 1918 Spanish Flu. She still had to pause every few minutes to retain the information, knowing that even minute historical facts could show up on a quiz or test later.

“Morning superstar.”

The words echoed into the empty stadium, startling the junior who was now completely engrossed in labeling a diagram on the process of virus replication. Kirby popped her earbuds out and looked up to see her teammate and partner in teaching, Erica, walking towards her.

“I would ask if you need help but,” she gestured to the room as she spun around, “looks like you’ve already got it handled.” She unceremoniously dropped her bag before joining Kirby on the floor, leaning her head on the redhead’s shoulder.

“So, can I just clock in with you and go back to bed? You can run this class by yourself, right?”

Kirby closed the notebook that was in her lap, hooking the pen into the spirals. “I think I should get the privilege of leaving early since I’m usually the one who sets up.”

“C’mon.” She nudged Erica with the shoulder where her head rested. “Let’s get a quick rally in before everyone shows up. That’ll help you wake up.”

* * *

The girls ceased their play as soon as the first students started to trickle in. Kirby knew how intimidating it could be for newbies to see people who were already engrossed in the sport. They went back to the bench where their things were located to take a breather before class started.

“Ugh, you can deal with that one.” Erica flung her hand to point at someone on the other side of the gym before going back to adjusting the laces on her shoes.

“Who?” Kirby looked around the room at the students, trying to find who her teammate was scoffing at.

“Color coordinated Barbie straight ahead. Why is she here? There is no way she would willing partake in this.”

Kirby looked across the court to see a tall brunette dressed head to toe in a matching tracksuit. Her hair was pulled into a high ponytail, slicked back in a manner that looked ready for war instead of a light workout. She was standing off to the side of the gym, purposefully sequestered from the rest of the group, staring intently at her phone and typing away. 

“That’s Fallon Carrington,” she heard Erica say. “Rumor has it that the only reason she got into the school is because her family is a huge donor.”

“You could say that about a lot of people on this campus. What makes her so special?”

Erica looked at her like she had just said the Earth was flat. “Not knowing who the Carrington’s are is like not knowing who the Kardashian’s are, but I’ll forgive you for that this time my little Australian import. All you need to know is that they are rich and powerful, and you should watch your back around Fallon.”

Kirby glanced once more at the mysterious girl, wondering how she gained the ire of her friend, before noticing the time on the clock above her. It was two minutes to ten, so they needed to round up the students for class.

“Good morning everyone! If you all can break yourselves into groups of ten we can get started!”

Like most college programs, this class started with a series of stupid introduction games where Fallon knew she would forget everyone’s name immediately. She wasn’t here to make friends or immerse herself in the unknown. She didn’t care about Tammy who was majoring in cognitive science or Connor who surfed on the weekends. She just wanted to do what was enough to pass the class and move on with her life.

Time seemed to fly by once they got settled into a basic drill, learning proper volleying technique and passing the ball to each other, since she was focused on making sure she didn’t take a ball to the face. She felt like everyone’s eyes were on her, waiting for her to absolutely embarrass herself. The two instructors were circling the room like hawks, making sure everyone was getting a chance to practice, and she just wished she could hide. They rotated to different groups until a final whistle blew to stop. Fallon barely was able to catch the ball that was flying in her direction.

“Last order of business for today,” the taller of the two coaches (Courtney? Kylie?) called as she held up a stack of paper in her hands. “Get yourself familiar with some basic volleyball terms. It’ll help when we really get into the mechanics of the game next week.”

She waited until almost everyone had grabbed their study sheet before she made her way forward, cautiously approaching the instructors until the rest of the students had left.

“Looks like we have after class company,” she heard the shorter girl say as Fallon was standing to the side, trying not to interrupt their conversation. “I have a study group to meet up with, so I’ll see you later?”

Now Fallon was left alone with the taller girl who looked in her direction, a friendly smile on her face.

“Hi! Can I help you with something?”

Fallon cleared her throat before beginning to explain her situation, trying to not sound as embarrassed as she still felt, but she had to swallow her pride if she wanted a chance of success.

“Um…maybe. I’m taking this class because it’s like the last of the requirements I need to graduate. I have no athletic ability in my body whatsoever and I’m destined to fail if I don’t get some help early on.”

The redhead nodded for her to continue when she paused mid explanation.

“So basically, what I wanted to ask is do you give private lessons? Or does anyone give private lessons? It doesn’t have to be you specifically although I’m sure you’re a good teacher since you are teaching a class. I’d pay extra for it too. My parents would gladly give me the money for the cost since it’s education related.” Whatever walls she was used to putting between herself and strangers had certainly crumbled by this point as she felt flustered in front of the class instructor.

“I’ve never done private lessons before, but I’d be willing to consider it. I can give you my number and we can go over the details later?”

Fallon nodded enthusiastically as she watched her rummage in her bag to find a piece of paper and a pen. She scribbled out the digits of her cell along with her name before handing it over to the other girl.

“Feel free to text me whenever. If you have a day and time in mind let me know! I’m sure I can work my schedule around it.”

“Thank you so much…umm,” Fallon looked at the scrap in her hand. “Kirby. I really appreciate it! Guess I’ll talk to you soon?”

“Yeah! I’ll see you next week as well!”

* * *

Kirby watched Fallon walk away, suddenly aware of what she had potentially committed to. Her first encounter with the Carrington girl wasn’t at all unpleasant. She just hoped she hadn’t made a mistake in offering her help to someone who already seemed to carry a reputation on campus. She realized Erica had also left her alone with the task of cleaning up. Sighing in frustration, she picked up the mesh bag from the sidelines to collect the scattered balls and cones from the floor. 

* * *

“You’re alive. I’m surprised,” Monica said with a smirk as she looked up to see Fallon coming in the door, returning from class. She had a book in her hands and some sheets of notes spread out in front of her on the couch.

Fallon rolled her eyes in response, shrugging her gym bag onto the floor near the entryway before going to the fridge to grab a snack.

“It was basically a syllabus day. I didn’t have to do much but catch a ball and pretend I was interested in everyone’s fun facts,” she replied, her voice muffled by the appliance. She retrieved a cup of strawberry yogurt, closing the door and going to rummage in a nearby drawer for a spoon. “However, the most important thing is,” she turned to Monica as she reached into her sweatshirt pocket and held up the slip of paper between her fingers. “I have the key to my success right here.”

“And that would be?”

She sat down in the middle of the floor in the living area, peeling back the foil lid on the cup and licking the yogurt stuck to the top before dipping her spoon in to stir its contents. “One of the girls who teaches the class agreed to extra lessons, so it should be smooth sailing for me until graduation.”

“Assuming you pass the class.”

“I don’t see why I wouldn’t,” she said as she took another bite. “You have such little faith in me.”

“You know, money can’t buy you good grades,” Monica reminded her.

“But it can help to get those grades and that is something I am not ashamed to do,” Fallon said with a flourish of her spoon.

She scraped the remaining yogurt from the container, popping the spoon in her mouth as she moved to stand up.

“Now, I am going to take a shower and figure out the rest of my weekend, including texting Kirby the details of my schedule. One class down. Only the rest of the quarter to go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes those are lyrics from Sweater Weather. What do you think Kirby's alarm song would be? Give me some future ideas!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my fellow Firby fans for encouraging me to write this! I hope you enjoyed it so far!


End file.
